Umbrella's Revenge
by Gramm485
Summary: Chris saves Claire from Antarctica and she joins him, Jill, and Barry in their fight against Umbrella. One day, Claire is abducted by an Umbrella executive. Will Chris be able to save his sister? Warning: This story has violent content
1. Chapter 1

**Section 1: The Team**

Chris pulled his station wagon into it's respective parking space in the garage underneath a set of apartments. He killed the engine and exited the vehicle, heading towards the elevator which would take him to their room. He entered the elevator and pressed 17. He wished they had gotten something on the top floor which was 24, but then again, they were lucky to find a decent place period. The elevator stopped several times, once at the 1st floor, and again at floors 4 and 13. Just ordinary people, heading to their homes after the day's work.

Sometimes, he wished his life was that simple. It used to be, but after a brief stint in the Air Force, he settled down in Raccoon City and became a member of S.T.A.R.S. The rest was history. Now, he and the remainder of his S.T.A.R.S teammates, Barry Burton and Jill Valentine, along with his younger sister Claire, had anything but a normal life. They worked tirelessly to destroy Umbrella Corporation. What they had done to countless people was unforgivable. Raccoon City, Rockfort Island, and several other isolated incidents across the globe had felt the effects of Umbrella's bioweapons. The massive company's public appearance was only a front for its real purpose. The creation of viral agents and organic weapons were Umbrella's true goal. What they were planning on doing with these monstrosities, Chris didn't know. He only knew that they had to be stopped before more innocent people were killed.

The elevator stopped on the 17th floor. Chris left the elevator and turned right. At the end of the hall was their room. Pulling the key out of his jeans, he unlocked the door and opened it. Inside the small living room sat Barry, Jill, and Claire.

Jill was wedged in the corner desk on the computer browsing through websites, looking for any activities of Umbrella. They had all heard the news, and Jill herself had witnessed it first hand. The American government had ordered a nuke dropped on the remains of Raccoon City to prevent further viral contamination. What none of them knew was if it was Umbrella's doing, or if the American government had decided to take action. So, to find out, every night Jill sat on the laptop and dug through endless websites, looking for rumors, facts, and news.

It seemed that Umbrella was finally starting to crumble. Very slowly. So far, aside from some lowering stocks, the corporation seemed unaffected. None of them were sure if it was a result of the government, or if it was just experiencing a dip in the economy.

Barry and Claire where sitting on a bargain couch in front of the TV. Barry, gun lover that he was, had a disassembled Glock 17 spread out on the coffee table in front of the TV. Each tiny piece had been carefully cleaned and inspected. He was now reassembling the gun. Claire had her feet propped up on what little space was left on the table. She was half watching the early evening news and half watching Barry as he painstakingly reassembled the fragmented gun. Chris greeted them as he entered. Barry and Jill gave an affirmative grunt, both occupied with their current tasks. Claire, however, bounced to her feet, knocking over Barry's magazine and causing the firing pin to roll off the table. Barry's brow furrowed as he caught it. Claire hugged Chris as he entered.

Ever since Rockfort Island, and their subsequent "adventure" in the Antarctic, Claire had been a little more attached than usual to her older brother. He had made it clear that he had vowed to destroy Umbrella for what they did to his team and Raccoon City, but Claire decided to stick with him, despite Chris's opposition. He would much rather have her stay somewhere safer. But she was stubborn, and she wasn't going to voluntarily leave him, so that was that.

"Missed you," she said.

"I know," he replied and grinned. The way she acted was almost childish. They broke apart and Chris reached out and messed up the top of her hair. She batted his hand away. Normal sibling interaction. He threw his windbreaker on the small kitchen counter. Propping his leg up on the back of the couch near Barry's head, he drew up the leg of his jeans and removed a compact pistol from a leg holster. He ejected the clip from the miniature Walther PPS and dropped them in Barry's lap. Whether it seemed a little excessive or not, Umbrella was definitely hunting for them. Most of the guns they had were Barry's; the Glock on the table, the Walther that was on Chris's leg, the Steyr TMP tucked in the desk drawer, as well as the Mossberg 500 underneath the bed in the next room and an assortment of handguns were a small corner of Barry's real collection that he owned. As much as Chris would have liked the artillery, they couldn't possibly move any more weapons undetected.

Several of those guns came in useful in Paris. They were forced to leave France after Claire had been captured. Chris left to save her, leaving Barry and Jill to close shop and move out. An Umbrella strike team raided the house they were staying at. A firefight broke out, and Jill took a round in the chest. Thank God for Kevlar.

The four of them were most of the few people who knew the truth of what happened in Raccoon City. Chris, Jill, and Barry had experienced it first hand. Claire saw the effect of the virus outbreak in Raccoon City, as well as some Umbrella's secrets hidden in the Antarctic. Their testimony would be the final nail in Umbrella's coffin. Chris knew of two others who could help them: Leon S. Kennedy, a cop who saved Claire when she arrived at Raccoon City and helped her escape, and Rebecca Chambers, a teammate who survived the mansion incident with him. Leon had gone into hiding, doing his own part with an anti-Umbrella organization similar to theirs, but not quite so offensive. He regularly checked in with Chris and his group. He didn't know what happened to Rebecca. She had fallen off the grid, and they had been unable to contact her.

Chris walked over to Jill to see if she had any intel for him

"Sorry Chris," she said. "There hasn't been anything online about Umbrella. Just the usual company websites that promote it and it's political garbage. All the major news sites have nothing on their bulletins, either. I did find one interesting thing today, however." She loaded CNN's website and stretched her arms, then brushed her short brown hair out of her eyes. Chris peered over her shoulder and read off the screen. The President was making an announcement later tonight.

"Hopefully it's about Raccoon City," he said. "The media has been demanding answers non-stop since it was destroyed." Jill agreed with him. She winced as she shifted in her chair.

"How's the chest?" Chris asked.

Jill tapped the sore spot on her sternum with the knuckle of her thumb. Above the rim of her black tank-top, Chris could clearly see a small bruise. The bullet that hit her back in Paris was dangerously high; it almost missed the armor she wore.

"It's fine, it's just taking it's time," she reassured him. "I I.M'd Leon today and asked if he knew anything about Rebecca, but he didn't have anything for us."

"Alright, good job. Why don't you quit for tonight?"

Jill grinned. "I'll do that. Thanks Chris."

Chris sat down on the couch next to Barry. He had finished putting his Glock back together. He was now sliding the 9mm rounds back into the magazine. The broad shouldered man next to Chris had an equal debt to settle with Umbrella. Like Chris, his family had been brought into the whole mess. It was their back stabbing S.T.A.R.S commander, Albert Wesker, who was working for Umbrella at the time, who threatened Barry's wife and children. He was forced to comply with Wesker. The result was almost the death of the entire team. Chris guessed that luck was with them on that day. They managed to survive, and Barry's family was safe.

Barry placed the multi tool he was using in the front pocket of his fishing vest.

"How did the surveillance go Chris?" he asked.

"Fine. There was nothing suspicious at the HQ downtown. That doesn't mean there isn't, though. We'll continue to trade shifts over the week."

"Umbrella's stock went down another two points today. Nothing too unusual, but it hasn't risen in a week, which _is_ unusual."

"Do you think the public is starting to figure it out?"

"Can't say for sure, but they will tonight if the President addresses what happened in Raccoon City."

Chris clapped a hand on his old friend's shoulder an stood back up. He walked over to the kitchen counter and sat next to his sister. He felt a little bad for Claire. He almost felt like he put her on the front lines of war she wasn't involved in. There was so much she had been through. Raccoon City was enough, but what had happened at Rockfort Island and the Antarctic was twisting the knife. She had lost someone close to her, although she never admitted it. Chris could see it in her eyes everyday. No matter how happy she was to see him, he always saw sadness in her. Chris hadn't had a chance to really address this issue with Claire, and the guilt of neglecting his sister was beginning to affect his duty. He decided to remedy that tonight.

"Are you holding up okay?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. "You ask me that every day, and every day I say 'yes.'"

"Sorry"

"Don't be."

Chris sighed. "Listen Claire, I know you've been stuck in here for a while. How about you and I grab something to eat. It's been awhile since we've been able to talk one to one."

Claire's eyes lit up. "Really? I thought we were suppose to keep a low profile."

"Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you."

Claire smiled. "I know." She quoted a line he always said to her "'You always keep your promises'."

Claire grabbed an old leather jacket from the coat rack and put it on over her shirt. It wasn't one of the special ones she collected along with her biker vests. Her "Let Me Live" vest was mangled beyond repair, but she still held onto it. It was folded in a drawer with the few clothes she had with her. She hoped the "Made in Heaven" vest was being taken care of by Sherry Birkin, wherever she was. The jacket she wore now was bought at a thrift store. She thought, in Claire's own words, "it had her charm". Claire had always been a tomboy, for as long as Chris could remember.

Chris slipped his own jacket on. He retrieved the Walther from Barry and concealed it on his leg again. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it. He told Jill and Barry where they were planning to go. It was a small burger place about a mile away, closer to the center of the bustling city they were in. He and Claire left, and rode the elevator to the parking garage.

"Next time, I get to pick the car." Claire said. She wasn't exactly a fan of the beat up station wagon, and made it known to Chris when he first showed up with it. Chris wasn't sure if his sister fully grasped their monetary system.

Every time they changed location, every trace of their existence was left behind, scrubbed clean of their tracks. Chris had no idea what happened to the SUV they had last time. He vaguely recalled Barry saying that he pushed it off a cliff. If they had to move again, Jill would probably have to hotwire something.

They pulled out of the garage and headed on their way. On the way, they chatted lightly about everyday things. Chris could tell that both of them were trying to sound normal. Nothing he said to Claire or heard from her interested him, and Claire probably would have agreed. Nothing in an everyday life could be more important than their current mission. Only when it was over could they fall back into the flow of life.

Chris and Claire arrived quickly and entered the restaurant. Luckily, their small talk held over until they got there. As they got out of the car and entered the building, neither of them noticed the black sedan passing by, slowing down and pulling over on the side of the busy street. As it did, it's tinted rear window rolled down, and the tip of a scope poked out, glinting in the setting sun. It whirred as it zoomed in on Chris and Claire, then snapped a few pictures.

There was a crackle of radio static.

"I.D confirmed: it's Redfield and his sister."

A voice called back over the radio.

"Redfield is considered extremely dangerous. Do not engage directly under public eyes."

"Copy that. I have a plan..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Section 2: At the Diner**

Chris and Claire sat in a booth in the corner of the dining room. Chris had told Claire not to worry about going out in public, but at the same time, he didn't want the world to know that they existed, which is why they sat so far back. The waiter and come and gone. They ordered both their drinks and food at the same time. As much as Chris wanted to let Claire get out of the apartment for a bit, he didn't want them staying to long. Chris took a sip of his water and took a deep breath. Time to address the issue.

"Claire, there's something I've wanted to ask you since Antarctica."

Claire folded her hands on the table. "What is it?" she asked.

"When I couldn't get to you through that locked door, I heard you crying. You never said what happened to Steve. After I hit the self destruct system, I never got a chance to ask. When Wesker grabbed you and said that he had Steve, I saw you change. Ever since this happened, you haven't been the same. What happened?"

Chris saw her hands tighten and her lower lip quiver. She was chewing the inside of it. Avoiding his eyes, she looked at the collar of his Polo shirt. "I don't think we should talk about that here," she said softly. "there's too many people around."

Chris remained firm. "Claire, whatever happened, you need to talk to me about it. If you just keep it hidden, it'll start to hurt more. Now talk to me, I'm your brother."

Claire's actions didn't change, although she chewed the inside of her lip a little harder. Chris saw that her eyes were getting moist. She finally started to talk, her voice trembling at first.

"M-Me and Steve were...close. I met him on Rockfort, but you knew that. I always thought he was a jerk at first. Then he...saved me...when I was attacked, twice." Claire was trying to keep her voice low. The combined strain of this and the emotion she was feeling was causing her voice to shake. She breathed deeply and regained her composure and continued.

"The second time he rescued me, he shot his own father...I mean, he was a zombie, but still... We escaped in a plane, but Alfred had reprogrammed the auto-pilot, and we crashed in the Antarctic base. We almost made it out when we were attacked by Alexia. We got separated. That's when you found me."

Claire took a drink of water and regained herself again. "When you hurt your leg, you told me to go on ahead and save him. Well, I found him...but Alexia had injected him with...something." Claire was now desperately fighting back tears, and her voice shook again. "When I f-found him, he transformed and...and tried to kill me...He almost did, but at the last minute, he recognized m-me, and save me from one of Alexia's tentacles. She k-k-k-killed him."

Claire buried her face in her arms and locked her fingers behind her head, and began to cry. She wasn't sobbing, but Chris knew she wasn't trying to make a scene. He could see her back rising and falling as she cried. She spoke into the table.

"He said that he loved me."

Chris reached out and put his hand on her arm.

"_So that's it. She loved him. I'm such a bastard for digging that up, but it had to be done. I hope you can forgive me Claire,_" he thought. "_I'll help you through this_"

Claire raised her head. Her blue eyes sparkled with tears.

"Excuse me," she squeaked and got up and headed to the bathroom, leaving Chris with her jacket and the puddle of water on the table top...

**Section 3: Claire in Distress**

"_Thank God this place is empty,_" Claire thought. The bathroom was completely devoid of life except her. She dried her eyes and splashed water on her face, then dried it. As horrible as she felt about what she told Chris, she actually felt better. He was right; getting it off your chest was better than keeping it in. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was a wreck. Her face and eyes were red, and some of her hair had become frazzled. She undid her hair from it's usual ponytail and tied it back again. Instead of looking at her beaten reflection, she looked down at the water circling into the drain. She heard the door open behind her.

"_I better get back to Chris,_" she thought. "_I shouldn't be alone for to long._"

As she left the sink, a big arm reached around and grabbed her head. Claire's lower face was buried in the crook of it's elbow. Instinctively, she reached up and grabbed it, trying to pull it free. The arm pulled her away from the mirror. Claire caught a glimpse of the owner of the arm in the reflection. It was a man in a black coat.

"_Oh God, I'm being attacked!_"

She tried to scream, but the man's arm acted as a vice, holding her jaw shut. She let out a muffled squeal as one of her arms pulling at his was twisted behind her back. She could feel his body behind hers and holding her tight, preventing her from flailing about. As Claire thrashed around, she lifted a leg and kicked at the sink in front of her. Her shoe knocked off the handle of the tap. She kicked again and pushed against the porcelain. Claire and her assailant were forced back, hitting the opposite wall of the bathroom and the towel dispenser. She heard him grunt as they piled into it and knocked it off the wall. He still held onto her. Claire tried to pull away as he adjusted his grip on her arm, but his arm wrenched her head back painfully. She shoved against the wall with her leg again and this time they hit the end of the bathroom stalls. The wall of the stall dented from their weight, but held fast.

The man released her arm, but Claire couldn't pull it from behind her back. It was pulled painfully up across her back and pinched against the man's chest. Her remaining arm clawed wildly at the hold on her head as she tried to scream again. She felt something sharp prick the side of her neck. Instantly, a wave of numbness spread like water over her neck and moved down her shoulder and up her face. Claire's jaw went slack as she lost feeling in it. The man must have injected her with something! The numbness stopped spreading, but Claire's vision was getting fuzzy. Her muscles grew more and more relaxed, then went slack. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she slipped unconscious.

The man released his hold on her, and let her fall unceremoniously to the floor...

**Section 4: Opening Moves**

Chris sat with his head propped against his arm, completely lost in thought. He was thinking about what Claire had told him. He still hated himself for bringing her to talk. It would take him awhile to come to terms with it.

"_I guess it's because I'm her brother,_" he thought. "_That's why I'm so conscious about it. She needed to get it out of her, and I feel bad for causing her pain._"

Chris knew this was stupid. The pain in her heart was already there. What happened in Antarctica wasn't' his fault, but all the same, he felt responsible for not being their when Claire needed her the most. He just hoped Claire wouldn't hold anything against him. He frowned, and looked at his watch.

"_She's been in the bathroom for ten minutes. What's keeping her?_" he thought. Even after their talk, Claire should have been back right now. He stood up and hurried across the dining room. Already he had a bad feeling. The bathrooms were back by the entrance, and he couldn't see them from where he was sitting. He knocked on the ladies door.

"Claire, are you in there?" he called through the door. There was no answer. He stuck his head cautiously in the door (it _was_ the ladies room), then walked inside. It was empty; Claire wasn't in any of the stalls. Chris's heart beat faster.

"_Where is she?_"

He was on his way out of the ladies room when he stepped on something that crunched. He looked down and saw a medical syringe on the tiled floor. He picked it and took a closer look. The plunger on it broke off when he stepped on it. The Umbrella company logo was embedded on the side, and it had a short needle. Chris ran his finger along the side of the needle, and a thin line of blood stayed on his finger. This needle was used recently. He looked up and saw the broken tap, then the smashed towel dispenser. There had been a struggle here. Chris's eyes widened.

"_Shit! Claire!_" He bolted through the bathroom door, then straight out the front door of the restaurant. He barreled into a man walking in. Chris roughly pushed him out of the way. The man nearly fell over from Chris's violent assault as he rushed passed.

"Dickhead!" he shouted at Chris as he ran into the parking lot. He stopped and whirled around looking for signs of his sister. There were no cars leaving the lot, but more were coming in. The station wagon was still there. It seemed that Claire had vanished into thin air.

"Fuck!" Chris swore. It had to be Umbrella. God, what was he thinking tonight! Why did he and Claire go out?

"_Why did I have to take her out and talk to her? I put her in danger! FUCK!_"

Now Claire was gone. He had to get Jill and Barry. But what could they do? They had no leads or any idea were Claire might be.

"_Or it could be a trap by Umbrella._" Chris saw it unfold in his mind. He could be watched right now. They would follow him to Jill and Barry, then they would all be dead. There were too many possibilities for Chris to think of. He took the most logical one. Umbrella took Claire, so they could get to him and his friends. Why they didn't go straight for him was a mystery. All he could do was play their game. He already knew what their next move would be. Claire had a cell phone. It had just one number on it: his. If they wanted him, they would call, and he would come. He swore that before they would even think about hurting Claire, he would kill them all.

Even if it killed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Section 5: Circle of lies**

Claire woke up groggily. Her head was pounding, and her neck was stiff. She opened her eyes and saw her legs. She was sitting upright in a chair. She tipped her head up and let out a groan.

"_My head..._" she thought.

The jackhammer in her skull was relentless. She felt something on her neck. Her arm moved to feel what it was, but a sharp pain lanced through her arm and into her shoulder. Her arms were bound behind the chair. Judging from the pain she felt in her arms, and the fact that she could barely feel her fingers was a sign that she had been tied for a while. Her thumb brushed against the thick cord that was coiled like a snake around her wrists. Her legs were bound in a similar fashion, rope was tied tightly around her ankles. She was securely held to the chair with more cord around her waist. She wasn't going anywhere.

Her limbs still felt weak, and her head still wasn't thinking straight. She vaguely remembered the struggle in the bathroom. She had been sedated in the neck. She turned her head, and as she did, she felt adhesive pull at the skin on her neck. Whoever captured her, they were kind enough to supply her with a band-aid. She tugged the ropes at her wrist. They didn't move so much as an inch. Claire began to fully grasp her situation. Her adrenal glands began to pump and soon she was wide awake and alert, though her headache remained. She tugged a little harder, ignoring the pain in her arms. Still nothing.

A door opened behind her. Claire twisted her head to see who it was. She heard a pair of footsteps. Claire caught a glimpse of two people, but it didn't matter because one of the figures walked into her field of vision and sat down in a chair in front of Claire. She hadn't noticed it before. The other stayed by the door.

The man now sitting in front of her was wearing black suit with a red striped tie. As he sat, he unbutton his coat. Claire saw the butt of a handgun holstered underneath and apprehensively drew back in the chair. Although his face didn't show it, he had a very threatening appearance. His brown hair was combed neatly over to one side. His eyes were dark brown, and showed very little emotion.

"Who are you?" Claire demanded.

To her surprise, he answered her question calmly.

"My name is Jared Roth. I'm Assistant Head of Research and Development for Umbrella Corporation." he stated. Claire immediately saw the shining Umbrella logo pin on his lapel. Upon hearing this news, Claire glared at him.

"_Umbrella..._" she thought, disgusted.

He continued speaking. "Miss Redfield, we would like to ask you some questions concerning the tragedy at Raccoon City."

Claire bared her teeth. "Your sick company was responsible and you know it. Why did you kidnap me?"

This time, Roth ignored her question and asked his own. "Do you have any proof that Umbrella was responsible in any way?"

Claire paused. She didn't have first hand proof of Umbrella's actions, but Chris and his friends did. Her heart raced. Did they have him as well? She chose not to answer, but just glared at Roth instead.

"I'll take that as a no. Tell me, Miss Redfield, do you know that you are aiding and abetting the acts of a group of terrorists, and that your brother is their leader?"

Claire scoffed. "Do you expect me to believe that crap? My brother found out what really happened in Raccoon City. There's no way you can cover up what your company was creating. We've all seen the sick shit you've done."

Immediately, Claire shut her mouth. She had slipped. Roth now knew that she knew everything that Chris and the others knew. But he might have known that already. She had been held in Paris awhile before they shipped her to Rockfort. If they knew that, then Umbrella would have known the events concerning Rockfort Island and her involvment.

"What really happened, Miss Redfield, was that your brother was the cause of the so called 'mansion incident.' I won't deny that we had a lab in the Spencer estate. It was researching vaccines for some of the worlds deadliest viruses. The S.T.A.R.S attacked the establishment, and several containment vessels broke. The vessels were carrying several viruses that mutated when they came into contact with toxic waste being stored for disposal. Unfortunately, our company was unable to react in time to contain the incident, and it leaked into Raccoon City."

"What about Birkin and the G-virus?" she asked him. "You expect me to believe that was an accident, too?"

Roth's eyes narrowed. "We suspected Dr. Birkin to be mentally unstable. He threatened the company with his so called 'G-virus'. Investigation proved that he never created it.We also believe that he collaborated with your brother when he attacked the lab."

"And why would my brother attack a lab?"

"We don't know, and neither does the U.S Government. We were hoping that you could tell us that."

Claire rolled her eyes. She wasn't buying anything Roth said. It was ridiculous. "So instead of calling, you decide to forcibly abduct me, and tie me to a chair?"

"We weren't sure if you had been compromised by your brother. I can see that now you are. We would very much like to speak with him. Perhaps he could clear his name by telling us the exact details of his presence at the mansion."

"So why the hell did you take me?" Claire asked. This circle of lies was really starting to get on her nerves.

"Your brother is a suspected terrorist. A direct confrontation in public could have endangered innocent lives."

Roth pulled Claire's phone out of his pocket. He flipped through the contacts list and dialed Chris's number. He stood up and told Claire an address.

"Tell your brother to go there," he directed her.

Claire grinned. "I don't think so."

Roth sighed. "Miss Redfield, we know your brother is in this city. You can either make yourself useful, and our lives easier, or you don't. Either way, it really isn't you we want."

A small click echoed behind Claire and she felt a cold metal ring press against the base of her skull. Her blood ran cold. The person behind her had a gun to her head.

Roth hit talk and pressed the phone to Claire's face, the speaker in her ear, and the receiver by her mouth.

"The address, and nothing more."

Claire swallowed and heard the phone ring once, then Chris picked up. In his voice, she could tell that he already had an idea what happened to her.

"Claire!" His voice seemed loud in the deathly quiet room.

"Chris. 4800 Boston Street."

Roth pulled the phone away from her face and snapped it shut, then placed it in the pocket of his coat.

"Thank you, Miss Redfield."

The click rang out again and the circle of metal left Claire's neck. She let out a shivering breath. Roth and the other man left, leaving Claire alone to focus on her aching body. She pulled at the ropes binding her arms again. Her legs were a lost cause; she couldn't get enough leverage to pull against the rope.

"_Damn. Why did they use rope? I was cuffed at Rockfort,_" She eyed the dirty room with it's single light bulb above her. "_And what the hell is with this place?_" Umbrella only used the best and most high tech materials in their buildings. "_It's so low tech compared to the facility in Paris. Rockfort was a dump, but I'm still in the city. The company must be starting to crash, but it's not like it would go all at once._" She thought about it for a while. "_What if these people aren't even Umbrella? No, they have to be, they know all about what happened with Chris. Ex-Umbrella employee's then? But what do they want with us?_" But Claire already knew.

They wanted revenge...

**Section 6: Taking Action**

Chris closed his phone. Claire's call was brief and to the point. They had her. She sounded fine, but Chris heard the fear in her voice. He guessed right. Umbrella wanted him to come to them.

_"Fine. That's what they want, that's what they'll get._" He wished he had a better weapon. The Walther strapped to his leg had a six round magazine, and he only had one spare. It wouldn't do much good in a firefight. On site procurement then. It's what he and his team had done at the mansion.

He got into the station wagon and headed in the direction of Boston street. He knew the address. He and Barry had checked it out. It was an old Umbrella warehouse, on the outer edge of the city. It looked like it wasn't being used anymore. Claire had to be there...

**Section 7: Reunited**

An hour later, Claire still hadn't progressed with her rope problem. She had lost all but the slightest feeling in her hands, and her feet weren't far behind. Every so often, she would here activity outside her room. She figured it was guards passing on a patrol route. A few minutes ago, she heard a little more movement than usual.

The door clanged open again. Claire turned her head and caught sight of a large man with a soldier's uniform. He had a fairly angry looking face. He didn't say anything to Claire as he approached her.

"What the hell do you want?" Claire snarled. She figured that they were far past the point of negotiating with her, so why fake being nice? Besides, he might have been the one with the gun pointed at her head when Roth was questioning her. He didn't respond to her question. His hand darted out in the direction of Claire. Startled she strained forward, fearing that he might strike her. His hand instead grabbed the back of the chair and pulled it on it's back legs. He began to pull it, Claire and all, out the door. They crossed the hall and entered the room across from where she was being held. The big soldier turned Claire around so she faced the center of the room.

She gasped.

The room was identical to hers: peeling paint, and a bare light bulb on the ceiling. In the middle of it was a pillar, and sitting on a small metal stool was Chris. He was unhurt, conscious and alert. His arms were pulled behind the pillar, undoubtedly restrained. On either side of him, in the corner of the room, stood two more soldiers. At the sight of his sister, he leaned forward and called to her. Claire heard a metallic rattle. He was handcuffed.

"Claire! Are you okay!" he asked.

"Chris! I'm fine but- uggh!" Claire was interrupted as the big soldier wedged a thick cloth in her mouth as she spoke. She choked as several loose threads tickled the back of her throat. The soldier knotted it painfully, and Claire was left to chew on the revolting cloth in her mouth. With the gag in her mouth, she was unable to articulate her speech clearly. Communicating with Chris would be impossible.

"Unnf...Chrif!" she tried to call out to her brother. She could see him fill with anger.

"Let her go! She's not involved in this!" Chris yelled and stood up off of his stool. His arms trailed up the pole as he stood. The big soldier pushed him roughly back down onto the stool. Claire heard a familiar voice address Chris.

"On the contrary, Mr. Redfield, your sister is very much involved. She was involved the minute she set foot in Raccoon City." Roth had entered the room. He pulled up a chair and sit in front of Chris, partially obscuring his view of his bound sister.

Chris seethed. "You must be Roth. You're in charge of the Umbrella facility in this city."

"I _was_ in charge of this city, until our company began to face a little crisis. I was relieved of my duties, so I decided to remedy the cause of it, and regain my former position. Mr. Redfield, your interference at Raccoon City could very well be the end of Umbrella."

"_So I was right. They are ex-Umbrella,_" Claire thought. "_This could be worse than I thought. They have nothing to lose._"

Roth continued his speech for Chris. "Thankfully, I have a few loyal guards that are more than willing to help me."

"Cut to the chase, what do you want?" Chris asked.

"Jill Valentine, Barry Burton, Albert Wesker. Where are they."

Chris remained blank. He wasn't going to give them his friends. As for Wesker, he had betrayed Umbrella back at the mansion. They had a little tangle in the Antarctic. Chris vowed that he would be the one to finish him. Wesker was his, and even though Umbrella might be able to track and find him, then eliminate him, there was no way in hell that Chris would let anyone touch him.

Roth stared back at Chris, waiting for his answer. Chris didn't give him one.

"Mr. Redfield, I assure you, once you start down this path, you will not be able to turn back. So I will ask you one more time. Where are they?" Roth was getting impatient.

Chris's face remained set. "Fuck you."

Movement at Claire's shoulder drew her attention from the conversation. The big soldier at her side was slipping on a pair of fingerless leather gloves. Claire's breathing increased; the soldier was smirking sadistically.

Roth sighed. "Very well, Mr. Redfield. We'll do it the hard way."

He stood up and moved his chair out of the way. Claire now had an unobstructed view of Chris. The big soldier approached him. Claire let out a muffled protest through her gag. She knew what was coming.

The big soldier drew back his arm and struck Chris across the face with his fist.


	4. Chapter 4

**Section 8: Interrogation**

Claire cried out. The gag garbled her words incoherently. The force of the blow had turned Chris's head. He winced, but stayed silent. The sound of the strike against his skull still echoed in Claire's head. Neither of them could stop what was happening.

The soldier grabbed Chris's hair and turned his head back towards him, then struck it again. Claire shouted again and pulled against the bonds in her chair. Chris grunted and and spoke.

"Claire, do me a favor. Don't watch."

Immediately, Claire closed her eyes and turned her head. She heard more strikes and Chris groaned after them. She felt a hand in her hair which yanked her head back. Claire squealed. Roth had his hand wrapped in her long brown hair. The stinging pain forced her eyes open.

"I wouldn't insult your host by ignoring the entertainment he's providing you, Miss Redfield. Please watch," he said

Claire reluctantly drew her eyes towards her brothers beating. His face was beginning to turn red where the welts were forming. Suddenly, his leg lashed out and kicked the soldier in the stomach. Unaffected, the soldier punched Chris directly on the nose. His head rocked back and bounced against the pillar. There was a sickening crunch as the bridge of his nose broke. Blood began to seep out of it, draining into and around his mouth. It speckled down his shirt. Dazed, his eyes rolled into his head. He collapsed on the stool, only to have the soldier grab his neck and lift him to his feet. He began to deliver blow after blow to his gut. Chris spit out a mouthful of blood as his diaphragm was assaulted, and he gasped for air.

Claire tried to close her eyes again, but promptly received a twist of her hair. The pain, combined with watching what was happening to Chris started her tears. The flowed down her cheeks and were absorbed into the cloth tied around her mouth.

"Mr. Redfield, I can stop this at any time. All I need from you is confirmation that you will help us," Roth said.

Chris let out a growl. He was trying to cope with the pain. "I told you fuck...you!"

Roth made a gesture with his hand, and the soldier resumed the beating. He was thoroughly enjoying himself as he struck Chris again and again. The red marks on Chris's face were swelling, turning into large bruises. More and more punches hit Chris's already broken nose. It began to take on a mashed appearance as it was broken more and more. He was beginning to lose his spirit. He soon began to cry out as each blow hit him.

The soldier delivered a crushing knee to Chris's ribs. He dropped back down to the stool, and leaned forward, gasping for air. The only thing preventing him from falling face first to the floor were the handcuffs around his wrists. The soldier curb stomped one of his shoes. Chris bolted upright and yelled as his foot was broken. He slumped over again, breathing heavily.

Claire had begun to sob. The gag she wore choked her as gasped. She wished she could do something to help her brother, but she herself was helpless. She pulled violently at the ropes at her arms, succeeding only in rocking the chair and twisting her shoulder. Roth gave her hair a little tug, silently inducing her to settle down.

"Mr. Redfield, I wish you would reconsider your decision. Think about what your sister is going through right now. Surely you don't want her to have to go through this?" Roth drolled. He wasn't excited by the interrogation like the soldier was. On the contrary, he seemed bored.

Chris was in too much pain to respond. One side of his face was almost completely swollen. A cut from his forehead was leaking blood into his eye and joining the torrent from his nose. His eyes were wandering around the room, a sign that he was losing consciousness. The front of his shirt was red with blood. For the first time, the soldier spoke.

"Should I keep going?" Claire's stomach contracted at his eagerness. He made her sick. How could someone be so sadistic?

Roth was the only other person who seemed to be aware of Chris's health. "No that's enough. We don't want him passing out. He doesn't seem to be in a very chatty mood anyway." His grip tightened in Claire's hair, and he pulled her head back so she was forced to look into his eyes. He seemed to be thinking. "Perhaps something could be done to persuade him more effectively..." He smiled at Claire, and her blood turned to ice at the malice in his eyes. "Lieutenant, cut out one of Miss Redfield's lovely blue eyes."

Claire's eyes bulged as she shrieked into her gag.

"_Oh God...They can't be serious!...No...Please God NO!_" her mind screamed.

She began to struggle frantically in her bonds. Roth kept an iron grip on her hair. Thrashing her head, she tried to free it from his grip, but this only resulted in more pain on her scalp.

The soldier turned his back on Chris and walked over to where Roth was holding Claire. Chris seemed to find a new energy at Roth's command. He lunged against the pillar, his arms contorting in their sockets as the handcuffs held him in place.

"You FUCKS! DON'T YOU TOUCH MY SISTER!" he screamed. The soldier turned around and delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of Chris's head. The kick knocked Chris off his feet. He missed the stool as he fell, and his arms got tangled in it as he fell. A loud 'crack' sounded as his arm broke at the elbow. He cried out in pain and yelled his sisters name.

"I'll talk, I'll talk! Don't hurt her!" he screamed.

"It's far too late for that, Mr. Redfield. You will tell us all we know after we extract what we want from your sister," he reassured him. The soldier pulled out a knife from his belt.

"Right or left?" he asked, grinning.

"Surprise me," said Roth.

Claire closed both her eyes, as if her eyelids would save her. She felt the soldier's hand on her face. They were wet and sticky from Chris's blood. His thumb pried open her right eyelid. Her blue iris contracted, focusing on the point of the knife coming closer. Claire let out another scream.

A loud bang sounded behind them. The soldier looked up. An even louder bang echoed in the small room. The left side of the soldier's face vanished, becoming a mass of shredded bone and flesh. He dropped like a rock. His knife bounced off of Claire's lap. Roth released his grip on Claire, and plunged his hand into his coat. Another shot, not quite as loud as the first, sounded. It hit him in the gut and he fell over clutching his stomach. Automatic gunfire filled the room. The two other guards were peppered full of holes. The massive cannon shot rang out again, along with it's little brother, and added to the automatic.

All Claire could do was sit and whimper into her gag. She was trying to become as small as possible as the bullets whizzed over and around her. Her head was tucked down, and her knees were drawn up to her head. She felt hands at the knot of her gag. They undid it, and Claire looked up. Her vision was blurry from tears, but she recognized Barry. He holstered his massive .357 Colt Python in his holster. The magnum was responsible for the loudest bang, and it had saved Claire from the knife. Barry took out his knife. Jill was crouched next to him, digging in Roth's jacket. She pulled out his gun and flung it across the room. Both of them were wearing black body armor over their street clothes.

Another person was with them: a young girl with short brown reddish hair. She didn't have any armor on, but she wore a tactical vest. Claire recognized the S.T.A.R.S logo on the back. The girl holstered her gun at her hip and quickly jogged over to Chris, gingerly freeing the stool from it's tangle with his arms. Barry worked on cutting off the rope on Claire's arms and wrists. She was fidgeting; she wanted to get to Chris.

"Claire, I need you to hold still. I don't want to cut you," he said. Claire forced herself to settle down. She could feel Barry's knife slipping through the rope, dangerously close to her wrists. The blade made a few swipes, and the rope fell off. Claire's hands tingled as the blood rushed back in. He quickly cut through the ropes around her waist and legs. She sprang out of the chair and rushed to Chris's side. He was slipping in and out of consciousness. His blood filled eye looked at the two women above him, first at Claire, then at the girl.

"Rebecca?" he slurred. Claire looked at her. She couldn't be more than 18 or 19, only a little younger than Claire. Was this the S.T.A.R.S's field medic?

She smiled at him. "Yeah it's me Chris. Long story. I'll wait to tell you after I patch you up."

Barry dug a key off the belt of the dead soldier who's head was incomplete. He through it to Jill and she uncuffed his hands. Claire grabbed Chris's unbroken arm in hers, and pressed his hand against her mouth. Rebecca hurriedly examined Chris's injuries. Her small hands crept up his torso, lightly pressing. A few times, Chris gave out a moan.

"It looks like you have a few broken ribs," she said. Her hands moved to his face. They gently pried open his swollen eyes. "And you have a concussion." She looked at Barry. "We need to get him to a hospital. I don't have the resources to treat him." She turned her attention to Claire and looked at her with kind green eyes. "He'll be fine Claire, just let us get him out of here."

Roth groaned over by the entrance. His stomach was bleeding profusely. Jill stood over him and leveled the TMP she carried at him. "And you are?" she inquired.

He ignored her. "S.T.A.R.S scum," he hissed. "Umbrella will kill you all."

Claire was infuriated. She snatched Rebecca's gun out of it's holster and rushed over to Roth. She leveled the gun at his face and pulled the trigger. Barry pulled her arms up as she fired. The bullet dug ricocheted off the concrete floor just above Roth's head and buried itself in the wall. She struggled against him, but he was way to strong for her.

"Claire, we are not murderers!" he said. He pried the gun out of her hand. "I know what he and his men did to you and Chris, but that doesn't matter. If you kill him, you are no better than them, and Umbrella will have gained something they can use against us. Now, you have to calm down."

Claire stomped her foot like an angry child. She turned around and went back to her brothers side. She awkwardly looked at Rebecca.

"Sorry," she muttered. Rebecca smiled again.

"It's okay."

Barry told Jill to watch Roth, then went over and helped Claire get Chris to his feet. First he gave Rebecca her gun back. As Barry helped Chris to his feet, he cried out as he stood on his broken foot. He almost collapsed, but Claire and Rebecca caught him as he fell. Claire informed them of what was wrong.

"That'll make him harder to move," Rebecca said. "We need to leave. Now. Try not to move his arm Claire. It's broken pretty bad,"

Barry slung Chris's other arm over his shoulder, and Claire held him by the waist, easing his weight on Barry.

"Jill, take point," Barry ordered. Jill left Roth and went out to the hall, checking for more soldiers. Barry and Claire carried Chris out the door, with Rebecca watching their flanks. Cautiously, they moved through the building. Jill was always ahead of them, clearing each corner and room for more of Umbrella's soldiers. Luckily for them, it seemed that Roth's "loyal soldiers" extended to the mercenaries they just shot.

A pickup truck was waiting outside. Barry and Claire dropped Chris in the back seat gingerly. Rebecca squeezed in along with him. Barry hopped in the driver seat while Jill watched their backs. Claire got in the passenger seat, once again taking hold of Chris's unbroken arm. Barry hit the ignition, and Jill hopped into the truck bed. They peeled away from the warehouse and sped to the nearest hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

**Section 9: The Hospital**

The entire group sat in the small hospital room. Chris was still unconscious, but his face was at least recognizable. The swelling had gone down, but he was covered in bruises. His foot and arm were in casts, and bandages wrapped his torso.

They watched the President's speech on the TV in the room. It was everything they hoped for. Umbrella was reported to be responsible for everything. The President issued an indefinite suspension of business decree on Umbrella. Their crashing stocks were the fastest in history.

"I guess D.C is our next stop," Jill said.

With their testimony, Umbrella would be finished.

"We'll have to wait until Chris is healed," Rebecca said. "Until that happens, we stay put."

Barry agreed. "She's right. There'll be plenty of time for whats to come."

At he spoke, Chris woke up. He groaned as his good arm felt his head. He had the worst headache of his life. All of them leaned forward. The first face he recognized was Claire. Her eyes were brimming with tears again. They all asked how he was feeling.

"_Both of them, thank God,_" Chris thought. "I'm fine, everyone, thanks," he told them. A small lie. He felt like crap. "Will someone mind telling me what happened back there?" he asked

Claire held his hand. "I think Rebecca will be able to tell it best."

Rebecca told Chris what happened. She had been monitoring Umbrella by herself over the last few months. It was pure luck that they came to the city. She was already there, watching Umbrella activities She spotted Jill one day, and followed her back to the apartment. Through a few wires she had planted in the Umbrella radio units, she heard that they had found Chris. When this happened, she raced back to Barry and Jill. She knew that Umbrella would immediately move in on Chris. As she contacted them, her bugs relayed new information. They went for Claire first, in order to bait Chris. Thanks to her intel, they knew where they were going to be held.

"And we got there just in time," she finished. "Any later and I'd never forgive myself."

"Thanks guys, all of you," Chris said. He squeezed his sister's hand back. "Sorry Claire. I wasn't able to protect you."

"Chris, don't apologize," she said. "I heard you back there. Even though there was nothing you could do, you still tried. If you hadn't resisted that one last time...well..."

She scratched the side of her face, near her eye.

Chris breathed a sigh of relief. "You're right. Thank you, Claire."

"No problem." She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "This'll cheer you up."

They all told him about the news. Chris smiled.

"About time. Looks like this is almost over."

Well almost. Wesker was still out there. Chris forced himself to forget about it for now. They had a great victory on their hands. By the time they were done in Washington, all of Umbrella's inner circle would be arrested, and the world wouldn't have to suffer from it's effects any more.

**Section 10: The Arrival at the Capital**

Jill cracked her neck. She hated long flights. The five of them stepped out of the airplane boarding path and into the terminal. Chris had healed, although he still wore a cast around his arm and a special boot on his foot. They had arrived safely in Washington D.C. They were all dressed up for their testimony that day. Rebecca, Jill, and Claire had sharp business blazers. They all looked like bankers. Barry and Chris managed to procure suits.

A limo service was scheduled to pick them up in an hour. Not a fancy limo, to Jill's disappointment, but just a car service.

"_I guess it would be a little much to ask for a little pampering_," she though dryly.

They would have people with them, but they were all unarmed. This made Jill nervous. Umbrella might be past the point of saving itself, but if they were able to go as far as they did with Chris and Claire, who knew what else they would try? They were all defenseless.

The service picked them up on schedule. Since all five of them wouldn't fit in one car, they sent two. Chris and Claire got in one and Jill, Barry, and Rebecca got in the other. They exited the airport and entered the freeway.

"Barry, what do you think will happen after this?" Rebecca asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you think Umbrella is just going to stop? Look at what happened with Roth. What if other executives start to take matters into their own hands, or worse, start to hurt the public by spilling a virus or something?"

Jill answered her question. She was in the front seat. "There's nothing the five of us can do, Rebecca. We can't watch everywhere at once. Everyone will just have to wait and see how this goes down. But it wouldn't be a bad idea to be prepared for the worst."

Barry agreed with her. "We'll jump off that bridge when we come to it."

Jill turned around in her seat. "Besides, we can't go jumping at every shadow, thinking that Umbrella is going to try and cap us at the first chance they get. That's just being para-"

The windshield exploded inward, showering Jill with glass. The driver slumped over on the seat, a blossom of red spreading over his chest. He had been shot! The car turned and skidded as the wheel shifted from the drivers corpse. The limo behind them didn't react fast enough. It slammed into their broadside. Jill's car rolled over on its side, skidding along the street, then fell over on it's roof. The driver's side of the car had been completely dented in from the second limo's impact.

Jill shook the glass out of her hair as she hung upside-down, suspended by her seatbelt.

"_What the hell?_" she thought, dazed. She looked over to the driver. He was dead. Thankfully, Barry and Rebecca weren't. Rebecca was holding her leg, though. Through her fingers, Jill saw blood flowing from a long, deep scrape on her calf.

"Guys, I think I just got shot," she moaned.

Barry unclipped his belt and hit the roof of the interior, now the floor. After a few attempts, he kicked out the window of his door. Rebecca also released her seat belt and crashed to the ground. Barry helped pull her through the window after he exited the car. Jill pulled at her safety belt, eventually unlocking it. Awkwardly, she crawled through the front seats and out the broken window.

Outside the car, Chris and Claire joined them. They were fine, but the front of their car was totaled. Jill and Barry looked at Rebecca's injury. The long, half cylinder graze on her calf was oozing.

"_She got shot?_" she wondered. She realized what happened just in time.

"Down!" she barked, grabbing Barry and Rebecca, who were closest to her. An impact struck the hood of the second limo, leaving a gaping hole where Barry's head was. Chris grabbed Claire roughly with his unbroken arm and dragged her behind their car.

"A sniper?" Barry asked incredulously. This was crazy!

"I didn't hear any shots," Jill reported. "He's using a silencer."

People had begun to crowd around the accident and the people acting strangely amidst the wreckage. Jill heard Chris's voice ring out.

"You idiots! There is a guy with a gun shooting at us. Get the hell out of here!"

The news of this caused a mass exodus of people to leave the streets, including Chris and Claire's escort driver. Most ran into shops and alleys, desperate to get off the street.

"Well, someone's bound to call the cops," Jill called to Chris. She didn't feel right sitting under cover. Jill wasn't the type of person to sit around and do nothing while someone took pot shots at them, but who knew where the shooter could be?

"Claire! Do you have a compact on you?" she called.

"Yeah...why?" Claire asked.

"I don't. Slide it to me. Don't stick your body out, just your arm. Do it quickly, then get under cover again."

Claire complied, and threw her powder compact across the asphalt. It landed short, so Jill retrieved it with her foot. She flipped it open, and cautiously stuck the mirror over the car. She panned the mirror slowly, getting an idea of what kind of buildings where around them. It was hard to tell. The concave mirror wasn't made for looking at things far away.

"_The driver was hit straight on. The bullet traveled through his body, the upholstery, then grazed Rebecca's leg. He's got to be right in front of us._"

She panned the mirror at the building down the street. It looked like a tall apartment complex. A perfect vantage point.

The mirror exploded in Jill's hand. A hole appeared near her feet.

"Son of a bitch!" she yelled. The sniper picked the mirror right out of her hand. A piece of glass had embedded itself in her thumb.

He was a damn good shot.

**Section 11: Old Friends**

Up on the roof of the apartment complex lay a motionless soldier. He was dressed in civilian clothes. Set on a bipod on the edge of the roof was a PSG-1. His head was placed solidly on the comb of the rifle. His right eye stared unblinking into the high powered scope, witnessing the scene on the street a few blocks down. Cold as ice he sat, and waited.

"Just above the car, a hand held mirror."

He repositioned his shoulder an eighth of an inch and breathed slowly, then squeezed the trigger. The gun popped as the suppressor dulled the shot. He smiled when he saw the bullet vaporize the mirror.

"Do you have a shot on any of them?" 

"Negative sir," the soldier responded to the man standing next to him.

The man lowered his binoculars and smoothed back his gelled blond hair, then pushed his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose. He heard sirens in the distance. They had overstayed their welcome.

"Pack up. We're leaving," he smiled.

"Just a warning, Chris.

**The end of the story, but not the fight...**


End file.
